


Season Of The Trickster

by The_Sad_Hatter



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Multi, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2020-10-29 00:21:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20787491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Sad_Hatter/pseuds/The_Sad_Hatter
Summary: Holiday and Season themed Loki One-Shots.Each one-shot will have it's individual warnings at the top, as some may contain smut and/or other triggers.All readers inserts.





	1. Fall For You

“The Bad News is she’s going to be just fine. Good News is we gave her the good drugs and Friday’s recording it all.”

“Tony…” Steve warned lowly.

“Relax Capsicle, we had to dope her up before we popped the shoulder back in. It’s in a sling and she needs to rest it for a couple of days, but she’s ok. No thanks to Tricky Dicky.”

Loki bristled at the insinuation, even though Stark wasn’t aware Loki had even heard it. It was true that your dislocated shoulder and other minor injuries were his fault though. He had seen the barrel of a gun aimed at your back and reacted instinctively, shoving you out of the way and killing the coward who had been trying to shoot you in the back. Unfortunately, he had pushed you off the ledge of the roof and sent you crashing to the ground below. It was only one story, but you had landed badly. He might have felt bad, or maybe not, but even in pain you had laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation and thanked him, so any guilt he may have felt was washed away before it had a chance to form.

“Let her sleep it off.” The Captain sighed.

He listened as the two men wandered away from the medical wing, abandoning you when you were injured and unconscious. No doubt they thought you were perfectly safe in the compound, but Loki knew better. He’d been watching you for almost a month now, and he had learned that your greatest enemy was your lack of self-preservation and common-sense. He’d watched you pick up a tray out of the oven with your bare hands, swear, and then proceed to pick it up three more times before you finally used the dish towel three inches away.

Asleep or not, he genuinely feared what you might do under the influence of narcotics. You were idiotic, even for a mortal, but you were also the only person who’s company didn’t make him reconsider his homicidal tendencies, so he felt obliged to look out for you.

It was lucky he did, because as soon as he walked into the room, he saw that you were most decidedly not asleep. You were straddling the windowsill, one leg outside and a look of intense concentration on your face.

“Idiot.” He muttered under his breath as he crossed the room.

“What are you doing?” He demanded, making you jump.

“Looooki! I’m going to play in the leaves!” You whisper shouted at him.

“Are you indeed?” He sighed, wrapping his arm around your waist and effortlessly dragging you back into the room.

You frowned at your legs in bewilderment, only seeming to register what had happened when he dumped you back on the bed.

“Noooooooo. I have to go see the leaves before they loose the crunch!” You protested.

“Norns help me. Of all the humans, it had to be you I befriended.” He mumbled.

“Loki.” You sniffled, pouting at him.

Your eyes went impossibly wide as you shot him a pathetically pleading look, which he ignored as he idly fingered the white sling your arm was ensconced in.

“It’s an arm hammock, my arms on vacation.” You said cheerfully.

“What did they give you?” He enquired, slightly worried about the pain you must have been in if they had to give you something strong enough to render you so childlike and… adorable.

“Stuff. Tony used the fancy machine to heal the torn ligerments and Bruce put a needle in me to make it not hurt.” You explained, your eyes darting over his face in fascination.

“Soft.” You whispered reverently, reaching up with your uninjured arm to gently touch his hair.

“Stop that.” He ordered, forcibly pulling your hand away when you ignored him.

“Can we go walk in the fall?” You asked.

He’d hoped you’d forgotten, but apparently the desire to leave the room was still prevalent.

“You can go outside once you have rested.” He bargained.

“No, I’m going now.” You decided, jutting your chin at him defiantly and clambering off the bed.

“My dear, you are not leaving this room.”

“Yes I am. You can’t stahp me.”

“You are a mere mortal, a one-armed, drugged mortal, and I am a god. I can and will stop you.” He reminded you.

Your response was an unexpected one. Rather than argue, you bodily threw yourself into his arms, wrapping your good arm around his neck, rested your head on his shoulder and looked up at him pleadingly. It was not unlike magic, the way your eyes drew him in and turned his resolve to ash.

“Perhaps a short walk.” He surrendered through gritted teeth.

He was wholly unprepared for such a soft little mortal to hang off of him like he was, well anybody except himself.

“Yay!” You cheered, untangling yourself from him and grabbing his hand, dragging him out of the room. 

You were a speedy little thing, especially considering you were drugged and injured, and he had to stride to keep up with your frenzied pace. You either didn’t notice that you still had a hold of his hand, or you did not care, and he almost intertwined his fingers with yours before he realized what he’d been about to do and tugged his hand from your grasp instead.

As soon as you found the doors leading outside, you took off at a run, your laughter drifting back to him on the wind and an unbidden smile tugged at his lips. There was always a freedom to you, it’s what drew him to your presence, like a lonely moth to a bright, warm flame. Whatever semblance of inhibitions you had were swept away by the painkillers Stark and Banner had administered and you ran across the grounds, giggling like a small child. It was endearing, and sweet, though he would never utter that admission out loud.

He followed behind you at a leisurely pace, confident that you would not get too far away from him, but broke into a run when you dove headfirst into a large pile of leaves. You’d misjudged how deep it was, and all Loki could hear was the surprised ‘ooft’ you made as you were swallowed by the pile.

“Help!” You yelled frantically, your good arm poking out of the pile.

He grabbed a hold of your hand and tugged you free, eyes darting over your too frail form in concern.

“Are you alright?” He demanded.

He gathered the answer was a resounding yes, judging by the peals of laughter erupting from you.

“Loki! Loki, I fell in the fall.” You gasped.

“My dear, are you attempting to challenge my brother for his title of the biggest oaf?” He sighed in exasperation.

You nodded enthusiastically, stamping your feet on the leaves and cooing at the satisfying crunch coming off of them. You bent down carefully, and with precision and care he didn’t think you were capable of in your current state, picked up a perfectly intact orange leaf from the pile. You held it out to him and he dutifully inspected it, frowning when you tried to place it in his hand.

“Leaf.” You declared proudly, like you’d just offered him a priceless treasure.

“Indeed it is. Why are you trying to give me a leaf?” He sighed.

“It’s pretty, like you.” You chirped happily.

“I beg your pardon?” He demanded, flabbergasted by your logic.

“Pretty leaf.” You said, brandishing it at him. “Pretty Loki.” You said in the same tone of voice, shoving the leaf at him.

He opened his mouth and closed it again, lost for words. The happiness in your eyes dimmed and he hurriedly took the leaf off of you before you did something ridiculous like start crying. The smile his acceptance of the gift elicited from you was brighter than the summer sun had ever been. The already too large speck of affection he had for you flared to life in his chest, making it almost hard for him to breathe.

You always did this to him, with your constant acts of kindness, or affection. The unabashed, unashamed way you would playfully seek him out and treat him like he was your friend. On paper, you were everything he said he despised about mortals. Immature, friendly, emotional, breakable. But in reality, those were just more reasons to lo… to _like_ you.

“Wait, what are you doing?” He asked, realising he’d been too distracted to notice you thump onto the ground and curl up in a ball, yawning loudly.

“I’m resting. I _am_ injured you know.” You muttered.

“Norns help me, I told you to rest.” He sniped, but you just smiled softly at him and blinked sleepily.

“I’m going to have to carry you inside, aren’t I?” He asked, knowing it was pointless to even voice the question.

Your whole face lit up at the prospect and your unbound arm shot up, reaching for him. He pretended to sigh exasperatedly but truthfully, he was flattered that you were so happy, excited even, to have his assistance. He carefully tucked the gifted leaf into his pocket before sliding his arms under your body and easily lifting you off the ground.

“Thank you.” You whispered, nuzzling your head into his shoulder as he strode back towards the compound.

“It’s not like I could actually leave you unconscious outside.” He replied.

By the time he got you back into the med-bay, you were fast asleep against his chest, breathing heavily. He gently deposited you onto the bed and pulled the blanket over your sleeping form with care. You were asleep, he could leave you here, you would be perfectly safe, but he didn’t want to take any risks. Instead, he pulled up a chair next to your bedside and settled himself into it.

“Loki?” You muttered, your eyes prising themselves open.

“I am here.” He assured.

“You saved me. My Loki, always saving me.” You sighed, your eyes fluttering closed again as sleep pulled you back under.

His heart seized in his chest almost painfully before it expanded again and started jackhammering against his ribcage. Your Loki…

Why did he like the sound of that?


	2. Christmas Delivery (1/2)

The chilly breezes were turning to arctic winds, the crisp leaves were disappearing and leaving bare branches and Tony and Pepper were having their annual argument about Christmas decorations.

If their loud argument wasn’t sign enough that Christmas was nearing, there was also Natasha’s finely coordinated gift hiding skills and Bucky’s determination to uncover her hiding spots. You’d put on at least 5 pounds from all the latke that Wanda had been making in preparation and practice for Hanukah, and you weren’t complaining at all. Sam had diligently scheduled everyone at various soup kitchens around the city throughout the season, something everyone was sombrely happy to do. The surest and most glaringly obvious sign that is was the jolliest time of the year was still Tony ‘Extravaganza’ Stark needling and whining about how much mistletoe was appropriate. 

“We’ve discussed this Tony. We do not need a 12 ft tree!” Pepper insisted.

“But ‘tis the season!” He pouted.

“’Yeah, lets deck the halls!” Clint yelled from his place on the couch.

“With boughs of holly.” Wanda chimed in hopefully, bouncing in her seat a little and sharing a grin with Clint.

“Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la.” You added, unable to help yourself.

“See, I’m not the only one. The children agree with me.” Tony said victoriously.

“First of all, don’t mistake my inability to resist Fa-la-la’ing with my being on your side. Secondly, children? Does this mean I have to call you Daddy now?” You snorted.

“You’re going back to the orphanage, traitor.” Tony sassed.

“What? I can’t help it if I’m a mommys girl.” You smirked.

Pepper whipped her head around to shoot a look that spoke of long suffering.

“I know you’re trying to help me, but please don’t.” She sighed.

“Oh, mommy’s mad.” Clint snorted.

“I thought Steve was mommy?” Wanda asked with twinkling eyes.

There was a beat of silence before you and Clint cracked up with laughter, Tony looking torn somewhere between amused and disturbed. Even Pepper tried and failed to hide a grin.

When Steve walked into the room a few seconds later you sat up straight, biting your lip to stop yourself laughing and doing your damndest to avoid meeting Clint or Wanda’s eye. If Steve suspected something he kept quiet about it, crossing the room with a steaming mug in one hand and a dossier in the other, stopping behind your armchair.

“Here.” He said kindly, passing you the mug.

Hypnotized by the mountain of whipped cream and marshmallows, and the scent of chocolate, you held out both hands and wrapped them around the mug with an enraptured expression. You didn’t even think to ask why he’d made you hot chocolate, or why you were the only one who had been bestowed with the gift. You just gushed out a platitude of heartfelt thanks and brought it to your lips, taking as big a sip of the scalding liquid as you could stand, uncaring about the whipped cream moustache you now had. 

“I need someone to go on a short solo mission.” Steve announced.

“Not it.” Clint, Tony and Wanda said in unison before you had a chance to swallow your mouthful of hot chocolate.

“Guess that leaves you.” Steve said, looking down at you smugly.

You looked between him and the mug of hot chocolate with a wounded expression.

“You played me.” You accused.

“Would I do a thing like that?” He asked sagely, tossing the dossier in your lap.

“Yes.” You muttered sourly, flicking through the mission instructions with one hand, nibbling marshmallows out of the cup while you did. 

It wasn’t the hot chocolates fault it had been used against you.

“Aww come on. What am I, a postman? Woman? Postperson.” You bitched.

“What is it?” Clint asked.

You glared at Steve as he answered for you.

“Retrieval mission for Strange. There’s an artefact in the Cascade Mountain Range and he needs someone to go and get for him.” Steve explained.

“Why can’t he just.. you know?” Clint asked, imitating Strange opening a portal.

“Oh Jesus. Strange can’t go because there’s a grumpy wizard living in the mountains.” You whined, reaching that part of your dossier.

“An isolated sorcerer who doesn’t take kindly to other magic users in his territory. It would cause unnecessary tensions, so it’s easier if we just send someone in the Quinjet. It’s a one person job, shouldn’t take more than a few hours.” Steve elaborated.

“Then why can’t you go?” You frowned.

“First rule of leadership, know when to delegate.” Tony supplied.

“I can’t go. I’m sick.” You lied, tilting your head backwards to look back at Steve with what you hoped was a sufficiently pathetic expression.

He frowned, worry filling his eyes for a brief second as he put the back of his hand on your forehead.

“Oh, you are burning up actually.” He exclaimed.

“I am?!? I mean, I am.” You agreed, nodding sagely.

“It’s a good thing you said something, maybe we can head off the sickness before it gets bad. You should go to your room so you don’t pass it to anyone else and I’ll go make you some soup.” Steve decided, trying to usher you out of the chair.

“Soup?” You asked in alarm.

“Sick people get soup. It has all the nutrients you need to stay strong and healthy.” Steve said condescendingly.

“I will ask Vis to help.” Wanda offered, smirking maliciously at you.

Tony sniggered and crossed his arms, waiting for you to break. You looked between Pepper and Steve’s patient expressions, and Clint, Tony and Wanda’s amused ones.

“I want to be emancipated.” You snarled, handing the mug off to Wanda and scurrying out of the room as quickly as your feet would carry you, the mission brief clutched tightly in your hands. A symphony of mocking and hysterical laughter followed you down the hall.

Bucky theorised that the reason Steve was so overbearing whenever anyone got sick was because he saw it as payback for his own sickly childhood. Didn’t matter why he was that way, you’d rather trek through a snowy mountain range than let Steve spoon feed you homemade chicken broth ever again. You grabbed your go bag from your room and whizzed through the fastest weapons check you had ever done, bitching under your breath all the while.

In record time, you had commandeered a quinjet and taken off, switching over to auto-pilot as soon as you were in the air. During the short flight you brushed up on the mission file, memorising the pertinent information. To be fair, it did seem easy enough. All you had to do was pick up a chunk of rock that had some etchings on it, from inside a cave and fly it back to New York. The mysterious sorcerer had apparently been living in the mountain range for decades and was mostly benign, except when it came to anyone else with mystical abilities.

The co-ordinates in the file put you mid-way up a mountain, and from there you had to go on foot because the all powerful Sorcerer Supreme only knew the vague location of the cave. As soon as you lowered the ramp the cold blasted inside the quinjet, rudely ignoring all the layers of clothes you’d piled on yourself and chilling you to the bone. You let out every curse word you knew and a few you made up just for the occasion as you stomped down the ramp and began the arduous trek through the snowy landscape.

“How the heck am I meant to find a cave when everything is white?!” You grouched.

You were going to kill Steve, then Strange, then Steve again. Then Tony, just for the hell of it. You tried to appreciate the scenery, it was beautiful after all, and untouched. Ginormous trees that were so tall and old that they really brought home how small you were in the grand scheme of things, chirping birds that put your hardiness to shame as they happily flew from branch to branch, snowflakes falling onto the fresh snow that blanketed everything as far as the eye could see.

It was beautiful, serene, marvellous, rapturous even. And something about the picturesque landscape wasn’t right. Nothing was visibly out of place, but the spot between your shoulder blades was tingling, and you looked around suspiciously. You might not have magic or superpowers but you did have almost supernatural instincts.

“Yes, hello. Evil Wizard who lives in these here mountains? I have no magic, I’m not a threat.” You called out.

There was no response, but the feeling of being watched didn’t dissipate. You looked around, searching the snowy scene for your company. A flash of green that you almost disregarded caught your eye in the distance and you peered at it through the falling snow.

The longer you looked, the clearer it became and when you realised what, or rather who it was, you threw your hands in the air.

“Oh, it’s only you. I thought it was a bad guy.” You yelled in relief. 

“Am I not a bad guy?” Loki asked in surprise, his quiet voice being carried to you on the breeze.

He uncrossed his arms and pushed away from the tree he’d been leaning on, walking through the snow towards you. 

“No. You’re a pest, but not a threat.” You scoffed.

“You wound me.” He winced, looking put out.

“I wish.” You snarked, stomping through the waist deep snow towards him.

“I assure you, your words cut me deeper than any blade could, my lady.” He said solemnly, offering you his hand when your leg got stuck in a particularly tricky patch of snow.

Maybe once he had been a villain. These days he was less evil and more… tricky. He had been an ally on occasions, and on others a prankster. Nobody trusted him enough to welcome him with open arms and give him a room in the compound, but nobody was calling for his head either. He was just Loki. At least, that’s how everybody else saw him.

You had an entirely different opinion.

_“You know, I thought being a Superhero would be a little more glamorous than this!” You whined, wrinkling your nose as you swiped at the rancid smelling green blood dripping down your cheek. _

_“Giant killer bugs from outer space is a new low, even for us.” Clint bitched, stomping past you, trying to kick a glob of goo off his boot. _

_“At least they were easy to kill.” Natasha shrugged, somehow looking disgustingly perfect, not a speck of slime, ooze, or goo on her. _

_You gave up trying to scrape yourself clean, accepting the fact that nothing short of a three day shower, a galleon of disinfectant and a wire brush would help. _

_“I think we had help, pretty sure I saw Loki taking a few of these things down.” Sam informed, trying to help Clint pull a string of bug flesh off his neck. _

_“Loki? Thor’s sometimes villainous brother?” You asked, grumpily kicking at the corpses lying around until you found the one you’d thrown your knife at, mid-battle. _

_The blade was firmly wedged in its cranium and no matter how hard you tugged, it didn’t want to budge free. _

_“Loki, Prince of Asgard, God of Mischief and Lies.” An unfamiliar voice informed you. _

_You looked up from your crouched position over the dead bug-alien, and looked up again. The god in question was gazing down at you, his hand extended. You frowned up at him and peered around his legs to see Thor standing a bit aways, talking to thin air. The Thunder god looked around in confusion when he realised his brother was no longer stood next to him. You shoved your boot onto the bug-aliens chest and gave the knife a firm tug, the blade finally sliding free. _

_“Hi. Pleasure to meet you.” You offered, placing your free hand in Loki’s palm, barely paying attention to him while you wiped your knife clean on your stained shirt. _

_“The pleasure is mine, I assure you.” Loki said emphatically, wrapping his fingers around yours and bringing your hand to his lips. _

_You looked up from your futile attempts to clean your knife, bemused. As soon as your eyes met his, he captured you in his gaze, holding you there as he brushed his lips across your knuckles. His lips lingered a moment past polite, but he released you before it became creepy. _

_“Your name, my lady?” He asked softly, and it might have been your imagination, but you thought you heard a slight emphasis on the my. _

_Your name floated past your lips in a whisper and he repeated it, making it sound almost melodic. _

_“Beautiful.” He decreed. _

_“It’s just a name.” _

_“The name is beautiful as well.” He said smoothly, his lips twitching teasingly. _

_“Loki!” Thor yelled, having finally figured out where his brother had wandered off to. _

_Loki huffed slightly, an exasperated sigh at being rudely torn away from what had apparently captured his attention. _

_“Until we meet again, my lady.” He told you, almost bowing slightly, and this time there was a undeniable inflection on the my._

_“Farewell m’lo…rd?” You winced, cocking your head to the side and scrunching your nose in an embarrassed frown at your own stupidity. _

_It was only once Loki had left your sight that you paid attention to your surroundings again, finally noticing your teammates looking at you with varying expressions of concern, amusement and disappointment. _

_“What?” You whisper yelled. _

_But you knew what. They were looking at you like that because even you couldn’t have failed to notice that Loki, the god Loki, had been flirting with you. An actual god, a myth, a legend, had been… well… smitten. _

And it hadn’t been a one off, the reaction he’d had to you upon that first meeting. He started allying himself with The Avengers more often, but only on missions you were involved in. If there was a fight, he’d be at your back, watching it, gazing adoringly as you fought, keeping anything from harming you if needed. That part you could deal with, even appreciate. It was the constant flattery, of your skills, your personality, your looks, the finely honed flirting and bouquets of green roses that kept popping up that you had taken issue with. He was the trickster god of lies, he despised mortals, and you were a very mortal hot mess. You had decided you had to avoid Loki at all costs, and he had decided to begin the process of trying to woo you.

The joke hadn’t been amusing to begin with but it quickly wore thin. Especially since the longer he kept it up, the more you started to wish it were real. You wanted someone to look at you the way Loki did, you wanted someone as passionate and charming as Loki to put that much effort into wooing you. And somewhere along the line, much to your dismay, you starting wanting Loki to be that person. But this whole thing was just a game to him, an ongoing joke at your expense.

Which is why instead of accepting his hand to pull your leg free, you tensed your calf muscles and yanked your leg out of the snow, deliberately kicking a pile of snow directly into his smug face.

It would have been a lot more satisfying if you didn’t lose your balance in the process, wobbling in mid-air for a moment before you landed firmly on your butt and sinking down into the painfully cold snow.

He looked down at you, utterly perplexed, and you looked back with a healthy dose of fear and an unhealthy dose of amusement. Lumps of snow were caught in the strands of his hair and splattered across his chest.

“Did you just kick snow at me?” He quizzed, too shocked to even be annoyed.

Yet.

“Accidentally?” You lied, stifling a laugh.

“You think you can lie to me? I am the god of lies…” *splat*

His tirade was interrupted when he received a face full of snow. You genuinely, honestly, truly expected him to duck, or move or notice the hastily scooped fistful of snow being flung at him, but he hadn’t expected you to do something so childish and had been caught unawares.

He spluttered, spitting out flakes of snow and wiping it away from his face with a stony expression. The fiery anger in his eyes was so potent you half expected it to melt the surrounding landscape. You shoved both hands into the snow and wildly flung it in his direction, buying yourself a few seconds to scramble to your feet and make a break for it. A snowball that felt more like a boulder smashed into your back, directly between your shoulder blades and you yelped, adding a zig-zag pattern to your running to avoid the torrent of snowballs being tossed at you with inhuman speed.

Getting caught up in a snowball fight with Loki was the last thing you expected to happen but it had happened, and you couldn’t help the peal of giggles escaping you as you retreated. Glancing over your shoulder you gasped in outrage as you saw the tell-tale green glow on his fingers.

“That is cheating, you can’t do that!” You insisted, diving out of the way as a flurry as greenly lit snow swirled through the air towards you.

“Fair? I merely offered you assistance and you attacked me not once, not twice, but thrice, and I am being unfair for using my seiðr to avenge myself?” He asked coolly.

You scrambled behind a tree trunk and opened your mouth to retort but the words turned into a squeak of surprise as the entire mountain shook beneath your feet. You fell against the bark and prickly branches, steadying yourself against the trunk.

“Loki!” You warned frantically.

“Move.” He snapped, his fingers closing around your elbow as he dragged you out from behind the tree, never taking his eyes off the top of the mountain.

He looked so far past concerned as he yanked you across the clearing, faster than you could keep up. You studied his expression, the crease on his brow, the thin line of his lips, the frantic darting of his eyes between you and the rumbling.

“The sorcerer who lives in these mountains… it’s not you?” You demanded, finally putting all the pieces together.

“No. Now move, it’s not safe for you.” He hissed.

The grumpy wizard didn’t like magic users in his space, and Loki had used magic, triggering some kind of…

“Oh my god.” You whispered in horror, picking up the pace as much as you were able.

The ground was shaking, or maybe that was just you. The top of the mountain had detached itself, thousands of tons of snow sliding rapidly down the slope towards you.

It was an Avalanche.

“Can’t you magic us out of here?” You asked Loki, sounding far too calm and casual for the situation.

“Magic triggered this, any more and I will make it worse.” He groaned.

Loki might be able to survive it, magic or no magic, but you were human. Even if you survived being crushed by the snow, you’d freeze, and there was no way you would make it back to the quinjet on time. You half sprinted, half got dragged by Loki, as the shaking and rumbling got louder and closer, the magically propelled avalanche hurtling closer to you every second.

So much for a quick and easy retrieval mission.


	3. Christmas Delivery 2/2

This was not how you thought you would die. You’d been picturing a dramatic and heroic tragedy where you died saving the world, or more likely, tripping over and shooting yourself. Not holding onto Loki’s hand so tightly that his fingers would have been crushed if he were human, buried under hundreds of tons of snow. You hadn’t gotten anywhere near the quinjet, instead you’d been dragged to a small wooden cabin hidden in the trees that Loki had apparently spotted. It was sturdier than it looked thankfully, because despite your fear, the shuddering and groaning of the dwelling tapered off and it stayed intact.

You were still trapped though.

“There isn’t much but it will suffice. We should be safe here but we may be trapped for quite some time.” Loki informed you, looking around the small room.

There was a lumpy old sofa, a table, some cupboards and a disused fireplace. It wasn’t the ritz, but he was right, it would suffice. 

“Oh, how convenient.” You scoffed.

He looked up at your tone of voice, a convincing look of confusion on his face.

“You just so happened to be on this mountain at the same time as me, getting trapped in this perfectly located cabin, while a wizard piles snow on us and you can’t use your magic. Do you really expect me to buy all this?” You demanded.

“I’m flattered you think me capable of constructing such an elaborate scheme. I did not know you would be the one sent to fetch the artefact for Strange, but I am here to get it for myself, I will admit that much. Alas, I am innocent. This time.” He rebutted, not offended in the least.

“You’re a liar!” You snapped, not buying it at all.

“The god of it in fact, but it does not change that I am on this occasion telling the truth.” He sighed.

“Then why can’t you use your magic? Why can’t you get us out of this? Because if there really is someone up there trying to bury us, there’s no way they’re stronger than you.” You griped.

“The flattery continues.” He smirked.

“Ugh.” You groaned, reaching the end of your patience, not that you’d started out with an abundance of the stuff.

In your exasperation and anxiety, you snapped, picking up the nearest object and lobbing it at Loki’s stupidly handsome face. The cushion you’d grabbed passed right through him, his illusion dissipating on contact. There was a whoosh of moment behind you before Loki’s arms came down on either side of you to rest on the wall, trapping you between the wooden planks and his body. He was dangerously close to crossing the line, but just shy of actually crossing it.

“You seem to like throwing things at me.” He whispered in your ear, his breath tickling your skin.

“You’re just mad because I’m not throwing myself at you.” You sassed.

“Hmm, true.” He chuckled.

You twisted around so you were facing him, careful to avoid touching him.

“Like you’d know what to do with me.” You taunted, trying to shoo him away.

“Is that a challenge or an invitation to prove your words untrue?” He asked, not budging.

“Neither. It’s just a suspicion, one I can live without being proven correct.” You scoffed.

You could duck out from under his arm, but you refused to give him the satisfaction.

“I’m not sure I can live with it.” He said lowly.

“Then Perish.” You said coldly, secretly thrilled to be able to meme in real life.

There was a flash of something almost heart-wrenching in his eyes and he stepped back, freeing you.

“You may be perfectly happy to see me perish, but I do not feel the same way about you. I will not risk the sorcerer of the mountains wrath, not when your safety is at stake. That is why we are trapped here, because waiting it out is what is best for you.” He said softly, like it pained him to admit it.

There was something so raw and vulnerable about him in that moment, like all the sass and cockiness melted away, the ice thawing and revealing the man beneath. It was the first time Loki had ever told you something you really believed.

“Oh.” You whispered, cowed by his words.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, looking away guiltily.

“I’m sorry I threw stuff at you.” You mumbled.

“Apology accepted, my lady. Now, we should take measures to ensure you do not freeze. I would offer to share my own body heat with you but…”

“Ew.” You interrupted, wrinkling your nose at him.

He couldn’t help himself, he just had to go back to the flirting.

“But as I am Jotun, a frost giant, I have little to offer you.” He finished.

“Oh.” You said, again.

He looked like he wanted to say something else, but must have decided against it, because he turned away without another word and started inspecting the dusty fireplace. You busied yourself with poking around the cupboards, discovering a couple of old threadbare blankets and pillows. It wasn’t much but it would have to do. Loki managed to get a small fire going with some leftover wood, the orange glow barely lighting the small room.

“It won’t be comfortable, but it will suffice until your friends come to valiantly rescue you. It shouldn’t take them too long to realise you are missing.” He informed you, stretching himself out in front of the fire like a lanky cat.

“They’ll be able to locate the quinjet and from there they’ll pick up our life signs under the snow. Probably…” You agreed, handing off some of the bedding to him.

You gave him both of the cushions and a blanket, deciding to set yourself up on the couch where it was colder, but safer.

“You’ll be warmer by the fire.” He pointed out disapprovingly once he realised what you were doing.

“I’m not that cold.” You lied.

He didn’t need to be the liesmith to see through you, the chattering of your teeth gave you away.

“If being in close proximity to me is so very intolerable to you then I will switch places with you.” He offered tersely, starting to get up.

“Just shut up and sit down Loki.” You huffed, curling into a ball under the blanket.

You missed the flirting, the sincerity was much worse. It was hard enough not to pine after him without realising that on some level he might actually care about you. Well, no might about it, he cared. It wasn’t the kind of care he’d made you yearn for, it was basic morality, but he wore it so well.

He slowly sunk back down onto the floor, lying back on the pillows, and you breathed a sigh of relief. The blankets were keeping away the very worst of the chill, but not all of it. The cold started off as a discomfort, but quickly worked its way into your bones, seeping beneath your skin and obliterating all traces of warmth in your blood. The dim light of the fire was too far away to help you now, the cold outside was freezing the room faster than the flames could warm it. The only heat in the room was directly in front of the smouldering logs, next to the God of peskiness. 

You really had no choice. It was do or die. Well, do or get ill. You sat up, wrapping the blankets around your shoulders as you scurried over to the fireplace, ignoring Loki’s smug look as you stepped over his legs and plopped your body on the floor next to his.

“Don’t say a word.” You warned, curling up into a ball as close to the fire as you dared.

You heard the rustling of his blankets behind you and turned your head to glare at him over your shoulder.

“Don’t even think about it, we are not going to snuggle!” You hissed.

He gave you a perfectly innocent look and passed over the cushion he’d pulled out from under his own head.

“Oh. Thanks.” You muttered meekly, stuffing it between your skull and the hard floor.

You lay on your side, facing the fire, trying to ignore the way the skin on the back of your neck prickled. Closing your eyes you soaked up the warmth of the flames, hoping that you could maybe sleep away these cold and awkward hours until help arrived. The light from the flames was a little too bright, dancing behind your closed eyelids. You weren’t going to turn over and face Loki, so you huffed and turned onto your back, keeping your eyes screwed closed. Between the fire and the blankets, you weren’t frozen anymore, and you were sufficiently exhausted, but sleep still did not come. There was one niggling little thing stopping you from passing over to dreamland. You cracked one eye open suspiciously and sure enough, he was lying on his side, head propped up in his hand, his eyes fixed on you. There was no shred of shame in him at being caught out, he just kept staring at you.

“Loki.” You whined.

“Yes my lo..lady?” He responded gently.

“I’m cold, I’m scared, I’m exhausted, I am emotionally and physically wrecked. I can’t take your shenanigans right now so I am begging you, _please_, just stop it.” You pleaded in a whisper.

He sat up abruptly, turning his face away from you as he spoke in a strained voice.

“You are an enigma. You don’t flinch away from me like the others, you thank me with sincerity when I assist you, you seek me out when you need help, you trust me to fight by your side… Where others treat me with suspicion or even fear, you never have. You smile at me when you see me, you laugh when I play tricks, you treat me almost as a friend - like you could even care for me. And then you turn on me and treat me like I should be treated, like I am intolerable. You give me hope and then you rip it away again, and I can never quite figure out why.”

His words caused a painful lump to form in your throat and you focused on the only part of what he said that you could answer, and the most important part.

“You think you deserve to be treated like you’re _intolerable_? Nobody deserves that, especially you! I don’t care what you did in the past, nobody is beyond redemption, and all the bad stuff you did was done under extenuating circumstances, yet you keep making amends for it. How many times have you helped us now, how many times have you turned the tide of a fight, saved the world with us, saved _my _life? You’re the furthest thing from intolerable.” You hissed at him, angry not at him but at everything else that had made him feel that way, including yourself.

“So vehement in your defence of me, you truly believe there is good in me.” He scoffed.

“Some people, like Steve, are born with a moral compass in their hearts. They’re admirable, they are, but you Loki… Being good, doing the right thing, it’s a choice you make, it’s a fight you have everyday. That is far more difficult and far more admirable. I know what you think of us mortals, that we’re below you, and I can’t truly argue that even if it makes me sad. But Thor fights for us because he loves us and sees us equals, you don’t, you still fight for us though. You’re complicated Loki, but there is kindness in you, there is goodness in you.” You decreed, believing every word.

His eyes darted across your face, searching for something, though you knew not what he was looking for.

“Then why? Why do you hold me at arm’s length, only ever giving me a teasing taste of what I could have? If it’s not my villainy, then what? Is it because I am a monster, a frost giant?” He spat angrily.

“No! You’re not a monster. It’s because you’re a trickster, because you play games and toy with me. I can trust you with my life but not my heart, never my heart.” You exclaimed, your voice trailing off to a whisper.

“Toy with you?” He repeated, frowning.

“Since the first time we met. Did you think that this horrible game of flirting with me and wooing me wouldn’t hurt me? That I’d brush it off? It’s cruel, and it kills me that you won’t stop taunting me with it. You say I tease you with what you can’t have? Well you’re worse, because you do it on purpose.” You practically yelled the words at him, sitting up and shrugging off the blankets.

Anger and embarrassment burned your blood, making you feel too warm. Loki recoiled from you like you’d struck him, his mouth hanging open.

“A _game_? You think my affections for you are just a trick?” He demanded furiously.

You could see the anger in the tightness of his jaw, and dancing behind his eyes. Something deep inside your chest twisted painfully and with more fear than you had ever felt in your life, you asked the question that could break you completely or set you free.

“Aren’t they?”

_~~~_

_“These creatures are far from their home. I wonder what brought them to this realm?” Thor wondered aloud, carelessly stomping through the mess of dissected corpses. _

_“They can survive on this planet, it is similar to their homeworld, which was destroyed five years ago.” He told his brother, unsurprised that Thor didn’t already know the pertinent information. _

_“Why wage war, why try to take this planet by force? They could have sought refuge, pleaded for asylum.” Thor bemoaned. _

_“It is not in their nature, nor in the mortals nature to be so selfless. If they wanted to live here then they had to annihilate the current dominant species. They failed.” He said dryly. _

_“Thanks, in part, to you. Your aid in this battle was much appreciated.” Thor told him gratefully, earnestly. _

_“If I could not take this world, I won’t have it fall to such loathsome creatures instead.” He responded, brushing off the rare praise like it meant nothing to him._

_But a rare burst of warmth fluttered through his chest, shining light into the battered crevices of his battered heart. When he had decided to aid Midgard he hadn’t expected much in the way of gratitude or glory, and to receive genuine praise from his brother was a pleasant surprise. Not that Thor ever needed to know that. _

_“Regardless of your reasons, it was good to fight with you again, side by side.” Thor pressed on. _

_He rolled his eyes, unnoticed by the brawny god of Thunder who was now hammering on about some long past battle they had fought. _

_“Loki? Thor’s sometimes villainous brother?” A voice asked, the light melodic tone catching his attention before the words even dawned on him. _

_Before he was even fully aware of what he was doing he had peeled away from Thor, crossing the street towards the woman who had spoken his name. He braced himself for the familiar acidic sensation her words would bring, but it did not come. She had questioned his villainy, but there had been no malice in it, no judgment or resentment. This woman, this unfamiliar hero, she only had curiosity in her voice. _

_As he approached, he got a good look at her and was entranced by what he saw. The last vestiges of the days sunlight broke through the dreary grey clouds and shone on her, lighting her skin like a beacon. Everything about her, from the shade of her skin to the colours in the individual strands of her hair was mesmerizing. She was knelt on the ground, tugging a blade from a corpse, enemy blood adorning her skin, sweat glistening on her brow. Hardly the picture of sophistication or grace, and yet in that moment he knew he had never seen another being so beautiful. If he had conjured a creature with his seiðr, carefully crafting every aspect of it to reflect his vision of true beauty, he still could not create something as wonderous as her. She was living art, a masterpiece. _

_“Loki, Prince of Asgard, God of Mischief and Lies.” He heard himself say, gazing down at her in rapture. _

_She looked up, and looked up again as he held out his hand to her. She frowned slightly and peered around, surprised by his introduction. _

_“Hi. Pleasure to meet you.” She greeted, warm and bright, even as she was distracted with trying to wipe her blade clean. _

_“The pleasure is mine, I assure you.” He said emphatically, wrapping his fingers around hers, relishing in the softness of her skin as he lifted her hand to his lips and pressed them against her knuckles. _

_She looked at him with confused wonderment and when her eyes met his it sent a jolt through his blood, making his heart stutter in his chest. _

_“Your name, my lady?” He asked gently, trying not to startle her further or wreck this tender and precious moment. _

_Her name drifted from her lips, carried on her breath. He repeated it, noting the way her pulse point jumped when he said it. Her skin was flushed, but not with exertion. She was blushing for him, looking so sweet and innocent, even as she maintained a warriors stance and wore the blood of her enemies. _

_“Beautiful.” He decreed. _

_“It’s just a name.” She protested. _

_“The name is beautiful as well.” He said argued, a genuine smile tugging at his mouth. _

_“Loki!” Thor yelled, breaking the spell. _

_He sighed exasperatedly, disappointed that the moment had been broken. _

_“Until we meet again, my lady.” He vowed, unable to stop himself emphasising that she was his. _

_It was a vow he intended to keep. _

_~~~_

“My attempt to court you has been the least malicious endeavour of my life. When we met you caught my eye, and quickly thereafter you captured my heart. I have only tricked you once, and my intentions were pure.” He said regretfully.

He waved his hand and the fire roared to life, bathing the room in warmth and light. The cabin creaked as the snow outside melted away and the howling winter winds stilled.

“There was no sorcerer.” You whispered, shell-shocked by the turn of events.

“There was no artefact, no mission from Strange. I tricked the Captain into thinking I was the Sorcerer Supreme, suggested that you were the perfect choice for this task. I needed to have you to myself, away from all the distractions. You were never in any danger, I would never harm you in any way. I only wanted to talk to you, to discern your true feelings for me.” He told you apologetically.

“I don’t understand.” You admitted.

What he was saying, it made no sense. He couldn’t possibly have real feelings for you, he couldn’t be just as hurt as you were.

“My feelings for you are real. They are powerful and true. I have loved you from afar for some time but I see now that they will never be returned. I will cease my attempts.” He said stiffly, locking all his emotions away behind a mask of ice.

“Me? _You _love _me_? But I’m only human and not even a special human, I’m an idiot. I’m just me and you’re you. You can’t love me.” You protested.

“I can and I do. You don’t have to return my love but you can’t tell me not to feel it.” He snapped.

It dawned on you then that you weren’t arguing with him, you were arguing with yourself. You had been so convinced you weren’t worthy of him that you had never given him a chance to make that decision for himself. You were the one playing games, it was all on you.

“Oh.”

Loki loved you. No tricks, no lies.

The damn inside you burst, flooding you with everything you had tried to supress, the yearning, the pining, the adoration, the desire and the love… all of it for the god you had convinced yourself you were unworthy of.

“I thought…” You whispered.

“You thought what? Tell me.” He demanded, his voice wavering with hope and trepidation in equal measure.

“That someone like you, someone so strong, so powerful, so striking and wonderous, couldn’t really love someone like me.” You croaked.

“You’re right.” He said and your heart dropped like a stone.

You looked away quickly, trying to hide the heartbreak on your face from him.

“You _are _an idiot. I thought you rejected me because of how you saw me, but to realise it was because of how you saw yourself, that is more painful. You are more kind, more beautiful, more intriguing, more stunning in every way, than any goddess I have ever known.” He continued, closing the distance between the two of you and reaching out to cup your face in his hands.

“If you could see yourself the way I see you then you would know, it is I who is unworthy of you. But I love you anyway.” He whispered, gently cradling your head and making you look at him so you could see the truth in his eyes.

The happiness that roared to life inside you made you feel almost dizzy and you half-laughed, half-cried as it finally fully sunk in. Loki was really in love with you, and you were in love with him. He smiled back at you, his thumbs brushing away the tears of joy that had started to run down your face.

“Now can we dispense with all the nonsense? Can we finally be….” He trailed off with a frown, his head whipping around to look at the door just as it burst open.

You leapt away from Loki in surprise, immediately taking up a protective stance before you recognised the red and gold metal figure in the doorway.

“Knock knock. Cap was worried about… you…” Tony announced, realising that you weren’t alone.

“Get out.” You hissed, shooing him away with your hands.

“Are you kidding me?” Tony demanded, the visor sliding back to reveal his outraged expression.

“Stark.” Loki greeted coldly.

“We thought you were in trouble you little minx, and here you are, holed up with your secret boyfriend in your sex cabin.”

“It’s not a sex cabin!” You insisted quickly.

“But he is your boyfriend?” Tony pressed, mirth washing away any annoyance in his eyes.

“What? No, he’s… my… it’s… you can’t use that word… he’s… _he’s a god!_” You spluttered.

“Alright, calm down, I’m sorry. So your holed up in your sex cabin with your sex god, got it.” Tony sniggered.

You made a strangled noise and turned to look at Loki who was about as happy as you were with the turn of events.

“If you want to kill him I’ll give you an alibi.” You offered Loki.

“Alright, I’m leaving. I’ll tell mama Steve that you’re fine. I won’t even mention your disgraceful behaviour, he’d probably have a heart attack. I mean, before you’re married? Shameful.” Tony said quickly.

“Stark I am so close to setting you on fire.” You warned.

“Allow me.” Loki suggested.

“I’m going!” Tony promised, backing out of the door with a cackle.

“Go faster.” You snapped.

“Save those sort of commands for your lover.” Stark smirked.

“Tony!”

“Fine, did you at least get the artefact? I’ll take it to Strange.” He asked.

“There never was an artefact, or a request from Strange. I made the whole thing up to get away.” You lied quickly.

You saw the corner of Loki’s mouth twitch at the way you jumped in to protect him.

“Rude. Fine, I’ll tell Steve it was gone. Probably even get Strange to back me up on it…” Tony muttered, more to himself than you.

You rolled your eyes and stormed over to the door, but before you slammed it in Tony’s face you had one last thing to say.

“Tony, tell Steve I’m with Loki. I have nothing to hide, in fact, I’m so happy and I want everyone to know why. Tell everyone, I’m in love with Loki.” 

You slammed the door closed and turned around to face the god in question. You couldn’t help yourself from grinning at him like a fool as he slowly stalked across the room until he was standing in front of you, your chests pressed together.

“Say it again.” He ordered domineeringly.

“Loki, I love you.”

He’d always been handsome, but with the light of happiness shining in his eyes and his lips twisting upwards in a joyful smile, he was beautiful.

“And I love you, **_my_** lady.” He solemnly swore.

And then finally, _finally_, he leaned in, sealing your vows of love with true loves first kiss.


End file.
